


The Bouncing Bakery, The Shifting Shop, The Killing Kiosk and Other Variants

by kathrikat



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Magic, idek what this is, muffets delicious pasteries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrikat/pseuds/kathrikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bratty and Catty have told Burgerpants about a deadly bakery. After a long miserable day at work, he surely will not come in contact with this urban legend right? Wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bouncing Bakery, The Shifting Shop, The Killing Kiosk and Other Variants

**Author's Note:**

> To be quite honest I just wanted a Burgerpants and Muffet interaction because I saw so many similarities in their characters. In this story I brought up the use of magic. Here I used it to be kind of an intimate thing, although there is nothing explicit. I hope you enjoy this! It took me forever to write! I love writing haaha ha ha :):):)

The feeling prodded at him like an animal begging for scraps. Like a needle just barely about to pop a balloon. If he let it press too hard he'd destroy it, and if it weren't for the needle in the first place, he wouldn't be feeling anything. There was one thing that made him feel this happiness. The only real thing he looked forward to at the end of each agonizing, miserable, wretched day. This one simple thing that made his tense muscles relax and go slack like that of a person's jaw when they bite into the glitter crusted atrocity that was a Glamburger™. This one thing that blocked out the harsh comments he got from intolerable and irritable customers who would throw as many tantrums as a toddler the first day you hold them.

 

It was the end of his shift.

 

The bags under his eyes seemed to be heavier than usual. Not that it mattered. In fact, when you work for Mettaton, nothing mattered. Everything was always about the fucking rectangle.

 

_"HELLO DARLINGS!"_

 

The robotic voice that blasted from a nearby radio, mocked his suffering. When did he even get a radio show anyway? Burgerpants shrugged it off as he slipped on his light jacket. (Hotland wasn't exactly cold.) Whatever Mettaton did in his spare time, was his business.

 

The feline's tail waggled in sad flow as he exited the sweaty, smelly, restaurant of death and despair. The city lights above him gleamed a little too brightly through his glazed eyes and his paws were haphazardly shoved into his work clothes. His legs dragged against the sidewalk with elegance points that were in the negative and the soft, fluffy, cushions of his bed, triggered a dopey smile to spread across his face.

 

_Home._

 

He would go home and for several hours, (it wasn't several actually, it was more like five) and he would sleep. This night, or he so hoped would bring benevolent dreams. Maybe tonight, he would be far away from this hellish place he was forced to call a reality, relishing in his laughable fantasies of being covered in kisses and, for lack of a better word, _glamour_. Where _he_ was the star.

 

He let out a low laugh.

 

He was making himself believe a lie.

 

His hat drooped sadly over his head, ready to fall off. He didn't care. In fact, he was surprised it hadn't already. It was crinkled and worn out, and the gusty wind wasn't exactly helping. It was like it was calling out to him as it rushed past his ears.

 

_"This is what you call work? You make me laugh, Burgerpants."_

 

He grimaced. Not the wind, just _Mettaton_. The robot's voice continued to run through his head even _after_ work hours.

 

_Stupid fucking rectangle._

 

Lenghty arms hovered over his messenger bag. The thing was his life. It held every coin he was to spend, his laptop, hell, even some of his clothes were in the damn thing. It was a quick get away in case he couldn't pay off his rent. His shoulders slacked back even farther at the thought.

 

_Money._

 

     That was it wasn't it? It was always about the money. It wasn't about caring or loving or helping others. It was only ever about how many ratings there were at the end of the day. How many people had donated to your 'worthy cause.' How much money you made. It was the peak, the very essence of survival. If you don't have money, no one bothers to even share a glance at you.

      If there was one thing he knew, it was that Mettaton had a _lot_ of money.

      Mettaton was rich because he didn't care about anyone else but himself. Not about his employees, his friends. If Burgerpants had to take a guess, he probably didn't care about his family either. Mettaton was just one big bundle of fake smiles, fake apologies, fake words that were always scripted, and the cherry to top everything off, was his fake body.

     Mettaton isolated himself to the point where he couldn't get attached.

 

_Independence was key to perfection._

 

     Burgerpants had to admit, he was quite the cheapskate himself. It was always in good reasoning of course. He had himself to look out for. He had to stay independent for a reason. Not that he had much choice. He didn't have any family left (that he knew of) and friends that were genuine were hard to come by. Any 'best friend' he'd had before was only there so they could speak to Mettaton. And that's where Burgerpants _would've_ drawn the line, but he needed the money. The robot could continue to make his life a living hell, but as long as there was that sweet, victorious paycheck at the end of the week, he didn't care. It had proved to himself that he had accomplished something, and to Burgerpants that was all that really mattered.

     Shuffling through dark alleys and taking shortcuts, he wondered if it would really matter if he just, disappeared. Taking a route with such peril, anything could happen. He could get stabbed or worse, mugged. His whiskers twitched in disgust at the change of air. He was _here_ again.

     Here wasn't exactly the greatest place in the world, but he knew he had a couple of allies that lurked in case he got himself in a tussle. There was Bratty and Catty, who, even though had given him his oh so lovely nickname, still had his back. There was a mutual feeling of something there. Although he couldn't put his tongue on what exactly that something was. Maybe it was pity. After all, they both sold garbage for a living.

     There was also Temmie.

     He smiled as he walked behind the small building. He wasn't sure how the two of them had become allies in the first place, just that 'anyone who is a friend of Tem, is a friend of Tem as well.' Whatever that meant.

     The alley itself was tight and the putrid smell that drafted in from somewhere wasn't helping at all. It always seemed colder when he dragged himself through the rotten area. He told himself it was because he was tired. He was wrong.

     The chilled air continued to fly by, making his hair stand at attention. The corner that held the sweet, sweet end to his journey was several street lengths in front of him. He couldn't afford to get distracted now. He had to keep his eye on the ball, as some would say. Burgerpants wondered if he could catch the latest episode of _Shame! That! Kink!_ if he hurried up. Out of all the things that Mettaton produced, it was the only thing tolerable. That and because Mettaton was literally the only thing you could watch on T.V.

 Every day he came by this corner of the alley, and everyday it was the same.

      He exhaled, a stray paw coming up in a fruitless attempt to relieve the exhaust from his eyes. The useless orbs looked up, catching a familiar glint of satisfaction in them. The corner of happiness and despair. He only called it that, because at the end of the day, that little corner was the thing that held his apartment at the end of it. Where he could finally get some _rest_. Where he could finally get some _happiness_. The despair part of it was because it was also the thing he had to drag himself around, the thing he had to pass by each agonizing day to get to _work_.

      In his book, if you looked up the definition of _work,_ it would say something like, intolerable, a place you go to die. And the following synonyms would be suffering, painful, and no escape. Along with, a picture of his pathetic portrait and the looming eye of Mettaton in the background for good measure.

 

_"Have you heard of it?"_

 Catty's voice from this morning suddenly crept inside his head.

 " _No, why?"_

 _Her paw raised in expressive fashion._  


_"Well, it's like the talk of the underground, silly!"_  


_Bratty chimed in as if on cue._  


_"Yeah it's like, totally what everyone is talking about. They say if you ever see it don't go in cause like, you never come out."_  


_"Oh my gosh, Bratty that's like, exactly what I was going to say!"_  


_"Oh my gosh, twinsies!"_  


_Catty turned to face Burgerpants._  


_"Anyway, you don't wanna like disappear, BP, cause like, we'd be all sad and stuff."_  


He let out a scoff, mentally hitting himself over what he had said next.  


_"I'm not. Besides what would you guys do without your favorite regular?"_  


_"Oh my gosh, BP, that's like so sweet!"_  


_The both of them spoke in unison, almost eeriely._  
  


     Burgerpants wondered if they really would notice or even care if he disappeared. The dynamic duo had warned him about the gossip they had heard. They were always telling him these kinda things. What they knew, what they had seen, who they had seen. Burgerpants was never one to gossip or start rumors, but listening to them rattle on when he was on break or after his shift was always nice. He learned a lot from them. If he knew them any better he _might've_ considered them his best friends. But he knew he would deny ever thinking anything like that to his grave.

     The original rumor that was passed down from Bratty and Catty was that of the 'shifting shop' or the 'bouncing bakery' or the 'killing kiosk' or whatever you wanted to call it. Some said that the place sold clothes or trinkets, but most said that it sold baked goods. Those who had lived after an encounter, which weren't many according to the legend itself, said that the goods were heavenly. That without even a smell or taste, your mouth begins to water.

 

_Heavenly, but a deadly poison._

 

     Those were the words an old turtle had told him when ordering his daily lunch from the MTT™ emporium. The horrific idea of a shop that moves was something that Burgerpants didn't want an encounter with. To be quite frank, he wasn't too sure where exactly the little shop was officially located. Some said, (like Bratty and Catty, and just about the entire population of the underground)that it moved on it's own, which, with how creepy it looked, wouldn't be too surprising. I mean he had never seen it himself, but Bratty and Catty had given him quite the description.

 

 _"It was like, super tall and skinny with big iron gates out in the front!"_  


_"What? It was like, totally wide, and the curtains in the windows were like, made of the richest velvet!"_  


_"No way!"_  


_"Uh, yes way!"_  


     As much as those girls called themselves 'twinsies' and 'one in the same' that shop seemed to be the one thing they couldn't agree on. Each of them had seen the shop on different occasions, and each of them, or at least according to their stories, had seen it differently. Burgerpants was never one to believe in the superstitious. If something like this did exist, he would either find an explanation, or turn from it in fear. It depended on how absolutely done he was with everything. As sloppy as he was, his steps were careful as he continued along the extensive alley way. The length of this alley seemed to have distanced itself even more. As if you were in a nightmare and no matter how far you ran, the lane continued to elongate. His whiskers twitched.  
  


_This was not the same._

 

It was always the same. Why was today any different? Nothing is supposed to change. His life was as miserable as is. If there was anything Burgerpants didn't need in his life right now, it was a change in his routine.

 

_His schedule was thrown off._

 

     As much as Burgerpants slacks off, he has a schedule to follow. A constant cycle on repeat. He wasn't saying that he didn't like change, he just liked to be warned first.

 

_This doesn't just happen._

 

     Once again his mind told him it was because of the exhaustion. He was wrong.

     It didn't matter why he felt like things should be kept in a specific order, it was just the fact that something was trying to change things. It had been a long day, and Burgerpants really didn't feel like dealing with some jackass trying to trip him out with magic.

 

_Magic._

 

    That was something he hadn't used since he was in high school. It was only ever to impress and he didn't know much, but it had been fun. He would light up his cigarettes with a snap of his fingers and the crowd would go wild. He used his magic to pull quite literal flowers from people's ears. He had only ever enjoyed seeing people laugh and smile. Everyone's magic was a different color of the rainbow. It all depended on what your morals were based on. So when Burgerpants had found out that his magic was green he wanted to scream. Green was one of his least favorite colors, he hated it with a passion and when he had found out what green symbolized, well, he wasn't too happy about that either.

  _Green: Finances, Luck, Money, Employment._

He could really be using some of that luck right about now.

 

After high school, it was an entirely different story. He broke off from his friends and the little world he had created with him and the spotlight, with him and his magic, had been completely shattered. No one bothered to remember his name, let alone share a glance his way. No one laughed at his jokes anymore. He kept telling himself he'd find someone, but with the shape he was in as of now, he knew deep down it was just another broken dream to add to the long list of countless others. He exhaled.

 

 _He was only 19 and he'd already wasted his entire life_.

 

     All this thinking had left him in a daze. To be truthful, this was the most he'd thought about himself in a long time, and he hated it. He hated acknowledging anything about himself. Whether it be a crush, a lifelong secret. He honestly hated anything he had to admit. He guessed that was because of all the time he's been spending alone lately. His eyes flickered as he arrived at the corner. The alley was no longer elongated. In fact, he had made it to the end in record time. . First they want him to walk forever, and then they take it back? He didn't know whether to be angered or flattered at the gesture.

 His brown orbs took a look at the abundance of spider webs that suddenly encased the area and deep down he knew there was no going back now.  


* * *

  
     Muffet held onto the counter as the shop shifted for the twentieth time that day. Her black eyes flickered to the small hundred of spiders that were her workers. She trusted they would do their job, trusted they would came back, because she was all they had left. They had each other, but their ruler was their last string of hope. She was their idol, the thing that they looked up to. She wouldn't let them down and... vice versa (more or less). Earlier she had decided to make one last stop.

  _Hotland._

     The area was a force to be reackoned with. The hot magma that encased them reminded her of how trapped she was. How she had tried and failed so many times trying to help the little lovelies that were her spiders. They were her everything, and if a few lives had to go under the radar, then that was just what she had to do. The broom she held with fragile hands whisked the dirt and dust around her ankles, making her clothes appear rather poor. She was independent, hard working. Her whole life she had had to work for what she wanted. She was her everything and she wasn't going to give up now. She'd continue to deceive and beg and manipulate to save the ones she cared about. There was only one problem.

  _Money._

     It was always about the money. Muffet needed money to make the scrumptious eats she sold. She needed money to run the bakery itself. She needed money to save the ones she cared about. If only the little ungrateful things could see how hard she worked for them, how much she cared about their dirty habits and welcome creeps. She knew deep down they would never. She knew others might ask, _"Then why keep trying? Why do you help if they don't care?"_

     That one was a tough question for Muffet. A simple answer might just be _"Because."_ for she was quite stubborn and if she said that things were like that, then that was just the way it was. Other times she might say, _"Because I care about them_." for she did. They were her life. Fighting for what was right for her kind was always what she wanted to do with herself. Fight for justice. Fight for freedom. She knew deep down her efforts might be for nothing, but if she could make one small difference in at least one spider's life, then she knew she could die happy.

     The shop shifted and creaked as she bustled inside of it. The magic that ran through it, also ran through her, and the two of them could feel it pulsing through each others veins. Well, she thought, shops that change and shift and _live_ don't really have veins, but she liked to pretend it did. It pulsed with her energy, and she wouldn't change it for the world.

 She wouldn't change no matter how much she wanted to.

     People told her she was creepy, cruel, heartless. She felt as though that were true. That those traits were bad and icky and gross. These words festered under her skin, rose and bubbled like yeast. They made her, her. So on days like this when she looked in the mirror she adored it. The person that stood back may not have been the person countless others wanted her to be, but rather, it was the person _she_ wanted to be. This was yet another reason why she helped those who did not want it. She believed showing mercy was always an acceptable trait.

           "Ms. Muffet!" The little voice squeaked and she turned to face the only company she's known for a long time.

           " _Hello my pet. What is it?"_

 The large creature scampered toward her, it's voice crackly like static of a television.

           "Guest! We have a guest!"

            _"A guest, Ragno? Well then we shall prepare! We must make their next living moments especially...spidery!"_

      She laughed to herself in a gleeful manner before continuing to dust off the counter and peek through the velvety curtains that kissed the windows. She did not expect the burger boy from the MTT™ Emporium and drew back, letting the curtains shake.

  _Mettaton._

      She hated his guts. He always told her the donations were good intentions, but she never saw it that way. She saw it as pity. If there was one thing she hated, it was pity. Did he believe she was not capable of holding herself up? Did he think she wasn't strong enough? Not independent enough? After a while she began sending the checks back, telling the messenger boy with no arms to tell Mettaton he could go to hell. That his money should be spent on trying to fix the damn economy, not feeling sorry for some baker with a shifting shop. If she saw that robot in her shop again she'd kick his metal ass out before he spread his glitter cooties all over her delicious pasteries.

 She stared at old flyers that were pinned to the bulletin board.

 

 _Come to the MTT™ Talk Show this Saturday!_  
  
_Come see Mettaton in Snowdin!_  
  
_Mettaton now hiring!_

 

The bastard was everywhere and his advertising even more so. She bet that if she reached behind her back, there'd be a flyer depicting Mettaton and his newest play _Hamilton_. It's not that she didn't trust the burger boy, but any one that even dared to represent _him_ was not to be trusted.

 Her judgement would just have to be good enough this time.  


* * *

  
     He had stumbled upon _it._

_Spider Confectionaries._

     The sign above him that shone in burgundy colored neon, flickered slightly, transfixing himself even more. The outside was haphazardly covered with cobwebs, some spray painted purple or pink. It looked almost cute the way it was tucked into the alley way, if it weren't for the fact it came from no where, and the creepy canopies. They glistened a shiny black against the reflecting light of the magma that surrounded Hotland, and his peripheral took special notice to the windows. The velvety curtains shook, leaving an echo of something in it's wake.

  _Someone, was watching._

     He told himself over and over that he could just turn back. That trying to go through was probably the most moronic thing he could do yet. After all, once he stepped inside there were a whole other list of stupid possibilities he could do. The worst one he could think of? Well, he could die, but even that wasn't at the top of the list of stupid things. Oh no, his worst fear as of now, was the fact he might miss out on sleep. Burgerpants couldn't care less what this dainty little shop could throw at him, all he wanted, was some rest. If he died trying, so be it. What harm could some pastries do anyway?

     His greasy paws opened the door and it's hinges creaked so loud, he thought it might never end. The cowbell that ran above his head, surprised him, and he jumped. It was a good thing no one was around, or he would've died from embarrassment.

     At this rate, he probably wouldn't survive.

     It was even creepier inside. There were no lights anywhere to be seen, and the floor was decorated in a chaotic checkerboard design. It appeared to be recently dusted and swept, yet the cobwebs in the corners had been left alone. His left paw reached behind him and he yelped in a fit of fear when the door slammed shut. A little spider with work clothes and hat was hanging by it's silky web. It waved at him. Burgerpants, albeit reluctant, waved back. His orbs stared at the little guy that swung toward him, landing on his shoulder.

          "Hey little buddy."

      His first instinct was to brush the doors man off, but he laughed. It's eight little legs crawled against him and prickled at his skin, sending electric shivers down him. It tickled.

          "Heh, what's your name?"

      One of his legs pointed proudly to the gold name tag he wore. His eight eyes glinted in the dark, each of them turned up into a shut eye smile.

  _Bloob._

 

     It was a rather odd name and Burgerpants wondered if it was real or a nickname that his shitty co-workers gave him. Like a nickname that your boss gives you because he catches you doing something ridiculously stupid and/or illegal. Burgerpants honestly didn't know how he still had his job. As he approched the counter, it's lights flickered on, sending him reeling back in fear. But when his eyes caught sight of the delicious eats he stopped. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of the like shone a fake brightness under the light. They reminded him of Mettaton.

     To the nose, they smelled ravishing. As the treats reflected in his eyes, he desperately wanted to reach out. To feel and know what each and every one of them tasted like. The cupcakes, the pies, the crossaints. He needed to know. Their wonderous looks but fake icing, reminded him of Mettaton. He tried to reach out but Bloob, hissed and shrieked so loud, Burgerpants thought he was dying. Him, not the spider. He turned to look at the small one.

 "What is it, little buddy?"

 But he didn't get an answer.

 

 _"Little Miss Muffet,_  
  
_Sat on her tuffet_  
  
_Eating her curds and whey;_  
  
_Along came a spider_  
  
_Who sat down beside her_  
  
_And frightened Miss Muffet away."_

 

Burgerpants could feel a lump in his throat. There was someone here alright, and he didn't want anything to do with them. The way they sang the old nursery rhyme, almost with a touch of sadness shook him to the core.

  _"Hello, dearie."_

 The voice stood indefinitely behind him now, no way was he turning around. Her sickly sweet voice was child like, and even with the pet name, didn't sound sincere in any way whatsoever. His eyes floated anywhere but where he wanted, and he caught a silhouette of her. He swallowed hard. She could probably tell how bothered he was, but bothered was an understatement.

  _He was terrified._

 " _Now now," She spoke to him as though he was a child, "You wouldn't want to leave your host ungreeted would you, dearie?"_

  _Host?_ He thought. _Host for what?_

 His body screamed at him to be doing the exact opposite of what he was, yet he still found himself turning around to stare at the bittersweet baker. Her skin was as purple as the frosting on her pastries and it reflected the light coming from behind him. The hair that was bountifully given to her, was blacker than the feather of a crow. It reminded him of how lost one could be. The pigtails were almost cute. They swayed with each move she took and were enclosed with tight purple bands. He found himself wondering what she looked like without them in, not that he'd ever ask.

 Six thin, lanky arms protruded from her body. The first set were pondering. Her left arm was across her chest holding the other's elbow in place and her hand was rested against her face, a look of wonderment on it. The next two, were scolding. Her fists rested against her hips and protruded outward in a way that reminded him of when a mother finds out their child has just taken cookies from the cookie jar. He knew for a fact that stealing was not his style. The last, were relaxing. They were slack by her sides. He took a guess that those were not her dominant arms.

 The five eyes that graced her faced looked through him as though he were nothing. Not that that was a problem. He was used to it by now. Mettaton did it all the time. His parents used to do it. Why did he expect anything less from the baker?

 Her bloomers were red. The kind of crimson you'd see after blood has dried. It crinkled messily around her thighs and there were tufts of flour that scattered through it. Burgerpants had to admit, she was a sight for sore eyes. If it weren't for the fact that she was so creepy and sold poisonous pasteries for a living, he probably would've complimented her.

 She moved with utmost precision, the black holes that were her eyes, viewed him with curiosity. It counter acted her prior confidence. Her sweet humming echoed throughout the shop as she lumbered her way closer to him.

  _"It's quite odd don't you think?"_

 Her voice came out in whispered echos, like there was more than one of her speaking. It reminded Burgerpants the way a snake's tongue makes the constant sssss sound. The humming continued as she spoke, like it was somewhere far away floating like background music. Yet it was still coming from her. He wondered how she did it. Maybe it was her spiders, maybe it was talent, or maybe it was just plain old magic.

 He cleared his throat and stuttered a bit before finally getting out a very weak;

 "What is?"

 Her eyes flicked a quick glance in his direction, and she laughed. It sent his ears perking back it was so unsettling. In came out in short loud spurts of _Ahuhuhuhu~_ and switched back into silence so quiet the only thing he could hear was his pounding heart. He wondered if she could, too.

  _"The poem."_

 Burgerpants mentally slapped himself. He was never a good observer. Or listener for that matter. He licked his lips, the rough feeling against them let him think for a moment. For anything he could say. He stumbled and refused to meet her gaze, stuttering a bit.

 "Well, I- I uh- I-"

 She got closer to him. Her face mere inches away. Bloob shrinked further back into his collar and hissed. Glad the little guy cared about him. Her gaze was piercing. It was as though it were filled with sadness and rage. Like it was filled with fire and ice. The two colliding and sticking together like a rainbow after rain. There was pride and a touch of curiosity that lingered there, like she was judging him. Like she could see every mistake and choice he's made.

 He felt as though she wanted his soul.

  _"Tell me Burgerpants, are you daft?"_

 He raised a brow, not knowing how she knew his name and at this point too afraid to ask.

 "Probably? "

 He turned away, not knowing the correct answer. 'Probably' had always worked as a good answer before, so why not now? Oh yeah, he was facing a murderous spider. Oh well. If his memory served him well, he had to deal with a robot who always degraded him. What would be the big deal if she _did_ kill him? Her haughty laugh rang through him again.

 " _My, my, what an answer. Pray tell me, what does it mean when your very being is named after the exact thing you are not? I am not scary am I, dearie? I haven't scared you off."_

 His eyes took interest in the floor. If he knew anything it was that; _some times you had to accept that this is you. Everything that you do is who you are and if someone else tells you differently, they can just stick it_. He shrugged.

 "I don't know."

      Muffet's eyes narrowed. This time she was way too close for comfort. He could feel her breath against him - it smelled like pastries not that it mattered - it was dry and distasteful. He could feel the amount of confusion and hatred twisted up into it.

 " _Why do you do that?_ " She moved away from him, her ebony locks swishing against his face. They smelled like strawberries. _"Why does everyone do that?"_

 He gulped.

 "Do what?"

 She whipped around to look at him again. Her brows were furrowed and lips curled into that of disgust. As if she were fed up with everyone's actions.

 " _Say the opposite of what you are thinking."_

 Burgerpants shrugged. _Sometimes it's to protect the ones you love, sometimes it's to get out of a tussle. People's reasoning depends I guess._

 "I don't know."

  _"There you go again!"_

 Muffet snapped this time, hitting the counter with one of her hands. Burgerpants was beyond confused and she must've seen that because her face suddenly softened.

  _Dearie, what is your color?"_

 He stared at her. Is she blind? He was obviously a pretty tan. Albeit the sweat and burger and glitter that encrusted him like the hard shell of a snail, was probably not the most appealing. The more he thought, the more he realized she was referring to the color of his magic. He grimaced at his own stupidity.

 

"Green."  


* * *

  
Muffet stared at the cat in front of her. She should've expected one so stupid from Mettaton. He smelt like someone had taken a bottle of mosquito spray to some week old burgers. On his uniform's gold plaque, read the name Burgerpants. A proper name for the proper job, she guessed. He finally sighed and uttered to her in an almost bored tone.

 

"Green."

 

She frowned.

 

_Green: Finances, Luck, Money, Employment._

Of course. She didn't expect anything less from a Mettaton employee. His body told her he had better plans, but his eyes told her that he was curious. That maybe some part of him wanted to know more about her. She flickered some of her own magic, purple sparks emanating from one of her dominant hands. It was like a show of fireworks ready to fire. Cold and hot and independent. Each stubborn spark refusing to stop, but refusing to ignite all the same. So when Burgerpants summoned his magic, saying she was disappointed was more than an understatement.

 

His magic was green and sphere shaped in his hands. It tumbled and rolled through his fingers, shimmering and rippling like pond water. He hadn't lied to her, so that was a plus. His magic had formed into something that reflected him, which meant he had, at the very least a little experience. One of Muffet's lower hands beckoned him toward her.

 

_"We'll have to mix, dearie."_

* * *

  
_They'll have to what now?_

 

Listen, Burgerpants was stupid, but he was pretty sure that mixing magic was a pretty serious and intimate thing. The fact he had even summoned his magic in the first place was more than a surprise but _mixing?_

 

"Isn't that-"

 

_"Intimate?"_

 

She finished his train of thought. Who exactly was she? Was the myth that spiders could read minds just that or something more?

 

_"Don't worry, dearie. I do this with all my customers."_

 

"You must not care about your customers then."

 

She laughed that twisted laugh.

 

_"If I don't care about my customers, why do you suppose I do this?"_

 

He found himself without an answer.  


* * *

  
Her magic read him like a book. It twisted and curled around him, invisble to anyone's eyes but her's. Was his soul one to swipe clean or one to spare? His outer appearance showed her he had been through...something. A lot maybe. She could tell working for Mettaton was not the most pleasant of experiences.

 

In reality, mixing magic in her style wasn't exactly like normal customs. Usually two people (that of closer origin than Burgerpants and Muffet) would come together and see each other's pasts through magic. Expose each other to what they have been through.

 

With Muffet it was more of a one way street. No one could know of her past. Not even her spiders. It was kept well hidden under lock and key where no one could find it. Not even those with the highest level of magic. The reason for this, was unbeknowst to her as much as the next person.

 

In Burgerpants, she didn't see much. There was a lot of despair, mockery. The craving for friendship. The longing to go back to the way things were. Above all, the desperate need for money. Although the reason why was hard to see. Perhaps it was out of greed, perhaps it was to make people laugh.

 

His past was even more pathetic. She didn't want to go into the gorey details but ultimately, his dreams were crushed by a very familiar robot. He reminded her of herself, and she decided to take pity on the feline.  


* * *

  
Burgerpants watched her facial expression twist into many forms as this test or judgement or whatever was happening. In the end, it softened and her delicate yet strong form disappeared behind the counter.

The counter where all the desserts resided.

 

She popped a few in a bag, and spider sticker placed on top. He could tell she was all about impressions.

 

_"Here you go dearie."_

 

He stared at the bag shoved into his hand, dumbfounded.

 

"But I didn't-"

 

_"Sure you did. Off you go now."_

 

Burgerpants gladly headed towards the door, pausing to let Bloob off of him. There was a mutual feeling of friendship there. When he had stepped back out into the alley, he realized that he had never caught the baker's name. He turned around to ask only to come face to face with nothing. He wondered if he had just imagined everything that had just happened when the sweet smell of pastries attacked his nostrils.

 

If it had been a dream, it had sure been a delightful one.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is folks! I might write more to this 'pairing' if I feel like it. Although I don't see them as a couple, maybe more friendship interactions? I don't know. Please leave feedback! It is very much appreciated!


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